


Father and Husband

by Dexterous_Sinistrous



Series: Tumblr Prompt Requests [20]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Established Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Derek, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-08
Updated: 2015-12-08
Packaged: 2018-05-05 16:46:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5382860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dexterous_Sinistrous/pseuds/Dexterous_Sinistrous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek doesn't think things through before he throws himself in the middle of danger. He realizes that he has to start rethinking things when it comes to his own safety.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Father and Husband

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes I just rant ...
> 
> Originally posted on tumblr here ([x](http://dexterous-sinistrous.tumblr.com/post/132642318682/you-should-write-a-fic-with-whumped-derek-and-an)).
> 
> Anon prompted: "You should write a fic with whumped Derek and an angry Stiles because if Derek would actually pay attention to how much damage he's taking then they wouldn't currently be in this situation. The one where Stiles is scared and cleaning blood off."

Derek knew Stiles was pissed. Stiles only ever stayed silent when he was pissed. More importantly, he remained silent with Derek when he was pissed. Never the less, Derek knew that Stiles was pissed.

Stiles remained silent as he stomped through the house, releasing small huffs of air here and there. He threw open different cabinet doors, making a great deal of noise as he did so. He unceremoniously tossed alcohol and peroxide onto the bed beside Derek, moving to kneel in front of him. He opened the first aid kit, his eyes staring at the shredded material, the remnants of Derek’s shirt.

Derek remained silent as well, watching Stiles’ movements. He complied with lifting his arms when Stiles grabbed at the hem of his shirt. He winced when the stretch of his side pulled at one of the wounds. He noticed the flash of irritability crossing Stiles’ face.

Stiles stood, snatching the bowl he brought with him as he walked back into the bathroom. He emerged about a minute later, carrying a bowl of steaming water. He remained silent with an intense look of anger covering his features as he submerged the towel into the bowl. He started to wring out the water before looking up at Derek. He scowled before he began to clean Derek’s wounds.

“You don’t have to,” Derek finally stated. He knew he misspoke when Stiles’ hands froze.

“I  _know_  that, Derek,” Stiles answered, turning his attention back to cleaning Derek’s wounds.

“I’ll heal,” Derek urged.

“I don’t care,” Stiles gruffly answered.

Derek let Stiles continue to clean the blood away, his eyes zeroing in on the rubbing alcohol in Stiles’ hands. “I don’t need that.”

“I  _know_ ,” Stiles replied, placing a generous amount of the alcohol on the sterile gauze wipes. “But it will sting.”

Derek released a deep sigh, looking off to the side. “I deserve that.”

Stiles released an angered noise. “No, you don’t. This was my point, Derek,” he grouchily snapped as he tossed the unused sterile gauze into the trash.

“What point?” Derek asked.

“That you’re a self-sacrificing idiot!” Stiles yelled. He stood up, beginning to pace. “You think  _this—_ ” he angrily gestured at Derek’s beaten form “—is okay.”

“It is.”

“It’s not!”

“Stiles, I heal—”

“Stop it!”

Stiles finally turned to look at Derek, his anger completely gone, replaced by a look of utter fear. He ran a hand through his hair as he focused on Derek. “Just because you heal doesn’t mean you can just let yourself get hurt.”

“Stiles, I would rather get hurt than you. Or one of the pack,” Derek started, his skin already stitching back together into light pink scars.

“But I’d rather you  _not_ ,” Stiles replied, crossing his arms over his chest. “Derek, I love you, but you can’t keep doing this.”

It had been years since Derek came back to Beacon Hills, the weight of the gold band around his left ring finger was product of that. But, from time to time, he still acted like the cocky Alpha he once was. He risked his life, and Stiles felt like he couldn’t breathe.

Derek knew Stiles was right. But the thought of that witch—any of the homicidal creatures they’ve crossed paths with—harming Stiles drove Derek to act in haste. He always acted in haste when it came to Stiles. When it came to those he loved and the thought of losing them too weighed him down to a breaking point.

“I’m sorry,” Derek finally uttered.

Stiles moved to kneel in front of Derek, placing his hands on his knees. “I don’t want you to apologize to me,” he stated, moving to place his hands on Derek’s hips, holding onto his husband with a tight but comforting grip. “I want you to stop doing this. I know you can’t stand the thought of me getting hurt, but don’t you think that’s how I feel about you?” He looked up at Derek, hoping he could make him understand.

Derek faintly nodded. He lifted his head when he caught the sight of a small little figure pushing the bedroom door open a crack. A head of messy black curls and a pair of wide, tired eyes poking through the crack, illuminated by the light of the hall.

“Daddy? Papa?” A soft little voice questioned in concern.

 _Laura_.

Stiles turned his head to look at the door. “Hey, munchkin,” he spoke as he stood up, moving towards the door. He opened it the rest of the way as he scooped their daughter up in his arms. “Grandpa put you to bed.”

“I didn’t get to say goodnight to you,” Laura explained as she rested her head against Stiles’ shoulder, her small wolf plushie dangling from its paw she held in her small hand.

Stiles sat beside the bed, glad that the first-aid kit and bowl of bloodied water was out of her sight. He shifted her in his lap, turning her so that she could see Derek.

Laura silently leaned out of Stiles’ hold, half crawling and half reaching for Derek. She was happy when he lifted her, settling her in his lap as she looked down at where there was once a giant gash. It was nothing more than a soft pink line now.

“You’re hurt,” Laura announced with both concern and amazement.

“I’m okay now,” Derek reasoned, leaning forward to press a delicate kiss on her forehead.

Laura always settled Derek, bringing him a calmness he thought he’d never have in life. He had cried in the hospital room—the first appointment they had to discover the sex of their child—after Cora and Stiles explained that they both liked the name Laura. It didn’t really hit him until he felt the weight of the baby—his baby with Stiles—in his arms. Even Cora’s comment about her doing all the work for carrying her didn’t get a rise out of him.

“Papa,” Laura started as she waved a hand at Stiles. “We need band-aids.”

Stiles couldn’t stop the faint smile pulling at his lips. “Of course, doctor,” he used his play ‘serious’ tone, gaining a rise of laughter out of Laura.

Later that night, Derek sleeping on his side with Laura starfished over him, Stiles ran his fingers through Laura’s hair as he watched her sleep. His eyes wandered over to Derek. He smiled when he noticed Derek was awake, watching him.

“I’m sorry,” Derek softly uttered, careful to not wake Laura. “I should have thought—”

“You’re a father,” Stiles quickly stated, stopping Derek’s apology. “And a husband,” he paused, his eyes watering some as he released a small huff of laughter. “We have a home, Derek. We have a life—a daughter. We’re a family, and when you get hurt, we get hurt.” He reached out, gently peeling off one of the several band-aids Laura decorated Derek with. “And somethings Laura’s band-aids can’t fix.” He pushed in closer, soundly sandwiching Laura in between them.

“I’m a father and husband first,” Derek softly stated.

Stiles smiled, pushing close to place a kiss to Derek’s lips. He couldn’t help laughing when Laura made a disgruntled noise, complaining that they were squishing her. They both proceeded to tickle and shower kisses on her until she was laughing in protest.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to join me on tumblr:
> 
> [drunklightning](http://drunklightning.tumblr.com) is my blog where I reblog anything I find of interest.
> 
> [dexterous-sinistrous](http://dexterous-sinistrous.tumblr.com) is suited towards my ramblings about my writing, and NSFW. (It's where I serenade myself about Sterek). It's my trashcan of emotions. Feel free to stop by and say hi, criticize me, make incoherent noises with me, whatevs.
> 
> [Send](http://dexterous-sinistrous.tumblr.com/ask) me any prompts you think you'd like to have me write!


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